


Kids in the Dark

by Anchan (Anchan_thevolleyballplayer)



Category: GOT7, Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Conversations, Cuddling, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kim Yugyeom/Im Jaebum if you squint, Late at Night, Minor Injuries, Philosophies, Platonic Bonding, Stress Relief, the tiniest bit of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:00:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28238118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anchan_thevolleyballplayer/pseuds/Anchan
Summary: It all happens too fast, and Yugyeom isn’t sure how he ends up hiding away in a dance studio, sharing his worries with the dongsaeng amidst an electricity blackout.Alas, it happens.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han & Kim Yugyeom, Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 4
Kudos: 65
Collections: Kpop Writers - Secret Santa 2020





	Kids in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MVforVictory](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MVforVictory/gifts).



> You left me with little to no idea of what I should write about so I figured that having some platonic bias bonding could make you happy. Happy holidays, please rest a lot & have fun!

Yugyeom’s heavy footsteps echo in the empty hallway, walking in an uneven pace towards the elevator. With the comeback approaching, there’s never enough practice – which means spending every possible moment behind the walls of practice rooms, listening to their title track on repeat. Working his body until his limbs ache and feet refuse to carry him further.

Any other given moment, he would claim he loves the feeling of exhaustion settling in his bones after a particular successful round of practice. But things haven’t been smooth lately, especially not between him and the team, and it’s rubbing off on everyone.

Petty fights, rather unkind comments, and irritated stares – these all happen, sometimes, they aren’t avoidable when you live with six other people. With stress piling up and their never-ending meetings and recording sessions, it only makes sense to ventilate.

And yet it doesn’t, not over such trivial things as messing up the choreography, not over defending another teammate from the offender, _not when it’s Jaebeom._

In a situation like this, all Yugyeom wants to do is to punch someone and cry. Preferably not at the same time, but it doesn’t even matter. He needs a relief of any sort.

So do the others, and yet it doesn’t feel fair when they act like they’re not a family, like they haven’t been through worse together. When they act like they hate each other.

All he needs is a break, _something_.

The tension pent up in his muscles doesn’t want to disappear on its own, so he slows down and closes his eyes. Feels the subtle buzz underneath his skin, a muscle memory of practice.

Takes a deep breath.

Blinks his eyes open, adjusting to the sudden shift of darkness and light, or rather the lack thereof.

Everything is black.

Motionless.

Calm.

At least the world around him found a moment to rest and regain its strength, and together with it, Yugyeom feels slightly better. As if the tension merged with the darkness around him, he himself feels lighter.

He approaches the closest light switch and presses it after a little blind searching.

Nothing happens. 

But then something _very vividly does_ , although it’s not about the lights switching back on – they stay unwilling. This one was a sound, a collision.

Judging by the loudness, it must have happened in one of the closest rooms.

The noise catches his attention – not because it’s scary, he’s long past being frightened by the long hallways of JYPE. It’s followed with an urgent cry of pain, and a little more hustle he normally wouldn’t have noticed, but he’s hyperaware of his surroundings.

He moves towards the source, just a few doors away from his original destination, but he doubts the elevator works with electricity off, and the noise is more urgent than his desire to go home. 

It doesn’t take a lot of effort to find the right door, missing by just one locked studio before Yugyeom successfully steps into yet another dark room and encounters a silhouette.

The person – _a trainee?_ – is crouched on the ground by the further end, unmoving; the rest of the room is covered in shadows, so it’s hard to tell if there are more people around. Then again, more voices would have been heard after the crash.

“Are you okay?” he calls out to them, watching in slight amusement as the person shrieks and turns around, leaps to his feet and stumbles back down. He repeats his question, worried.

“Ah, um, I’m good,” the voice stutters out, and Yugyeom notices its quite familiar. Not team member familiar, nor family familiar… but it’s a voice of someone he knows, that’s for sure.

He walks further into the room, the door automatically closing behind him. The closer he gets to the person, the easier it is to recognise his features – so when Han Jisung finally raises his head to properly face him, he recognizes him immediately.

Scanning the boy in front of him, he doesn’t miss the way the younger clings to his own leg, and wonders if that’s the reason for all the previous ruckus.

Jisung is beaming at him with a sheepish smile. “I was just reckless during practice, it’s nothing.”

“Can you stand?” Yugyeom asks despite his – weak and _unconvincing –_ statement.

“Of course I can–” he watches as Jisung wobbles upwards, obviously avoiding stepping fully on his right leg. “See?” he beams, but the whole action takes too much effort to convince Yugyeom.

For a brief moment, he wonders if he’s allowed to treat Jisung with such urgency, but then again – the younger is hurt, so he doesn’t hesitate to drape his arm around his waist and wobble them towards the closest wall where Jisung obediently seats himself onto the floor.

He crouches down and pulls out his phone to switch on the flashlight and observe the injury. 

Under the bluish light, Jisung’s ankle looks mostly unharmed and compared to the other one, it doesn’t look much swollen either but the violent shade of red slowly blooming towards the surface reveals it won’t take long until the injury shows itself completely, outside of pain.

“We should secure your ankle,” he concludes, glancing up to meet Jisung’s worried eyes. “Do you have any spare cloth we could use?”

Jisung sways his hand towards the furnished nook where his things are dropped onto the floor. Yugyeom strides towards his backpack, asking for a silent approval for zipping it open. He finds a damp practice shirt and decides it will do the trick – so he hurries back towards Jisung.

He wiggles his eyebrows as he holds the cloth towards Jisung, and the younger laughs in response.

Soon, his ankle and the bigger part of his calf is wrapped up and secured.

Yugyeom squats beside him, then relaxes into a more comfortable sitting position, letting his thoughts wander. Now that the adrenaline has tuned out, he becomes curious about what brought Jisung here in the first place.

Alone, that is. He usually sees him with Chan and Changbin this late at night, making coffee runs and talking about new music. They don’t have a particular comeback planned, so he doesn’t have to spend his nights out.

Not unless there’s something bothering Jisung, too.

Maybe.

Maybe he could provide some comfort…?

He wonders if he’s qualified enough for such, but then, he probably learned a thing or two from Chan during their trainee days. Speaking up to settle conflicts and soothe the pain is much easier in a quiet room than it is among six clashing people.

It’s less about screaming their lungs out and more about listening.

Acceptance.

“Aren’t you going home now?” Jisung inquires, breaking the silence. His wide eyes are staring at Yugyeom with worry, as if he thought he was being a burden when in fact, he gives him an excuse – but he’s more than that, really. “You don’t have to stay; I can handle it.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Yugyeom shakes his head firmly.

The younger is right, but he’s not particularly fond of the idea of going home, nor leaving the younger alone in this state. “I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re okay.”

Jisung only laughs in response – he sounds tired, aching.

The silence comfortably grows around them until they’re tucked underneath it like a blanket. It’s comforting; such stark contrast to the constantly noisy dormitory he’s used to.

With the group, the company, they’re constantly on the go – having a peaceful moment is a rare occasion he treasures the most. With the world seemingly frozen for now, he’s finally realising that not just his mind, but how tired his _body_ is. For how long had he been training tonight?

“Mind if I ask you what’s wrong?” he follows Jisung’s uncertain voice towards its source. “Sorry, you seemed… you look worried.”

Okay, maybe he’s the one who needs comfort, more than Jisung – maybe they both do, but Jisung makes it sound he either doesn’t want to talk about it, or maybe his worries don’t go further past the usual need for improvement.

Either way, he wants to listen – and Yugyeom needs someone to listen, _so much._

“Ah,” Yugyeom smiles apologetically. “Nothing escapes you, huh?”

It’s not easy, but eventually, Yugyeom finds himself opening up. It _shouldn’t_ be so easy, at least, but Jisung makes him feel ready, silently holding his eyes as if they were a possession too vulnerable.

To each stumble of words, Jisung hums in encouragement. To each stray tear, Jisung finds his hand to hold and squeeze. He doesn’t remember when the younger rested his head on his shoulder, but the pressure is pleasant.

And there’s nothing much to tell, which makes him a little embarrassed, worried the younger will think he’s overreacting but instead, Jisung accepts everything he says with understanding.

It’s exactly what he needed to cope.

Throughout his life, Yugyeom never thought he would feel lonely, while simultaneously being overwhelmed by everyone around. He has a great family back at home, parents that supported his career and rooted for him when he needed it the most.

They aren’t together now, but that’s okay – Yugyeom has found a second family _here_ , and he’s absolutely happy with it. But when the ones around him don’t mirror his enthusiasm and become toxic towards each other without even realising, it hurts _him_ the most.

_Where’s the love we’ve been sharing until now?_

Jisung holds him like someone who _knows_ what the pain feels like. Yugyeom doesn’t know much about his background, other than coming here from Malaysia. But from what he knows now, having found a family within Stray Kids, Jisung looks happier than ever.

For the younger, it doesn’t matter what had been – he focuses on what’s _now_ and what’s yet to come.

Yugyeom can’t stop missing the past, where things were ideal, and yes, stressing, but they were handling it like a team. When he felt happy with the others.

_Would it be wrong to wish for the world to turn around again?_

“Why would you want to turn the world when another eternity is right in front of you?”

Jisung isn’t teasing him, he doesn’t sound like he’s arguing either. It’s just… an interesting philosophical question. Yugyeom wasn’t prepared for that. Not from Jisung.

Still, it somehow makes sense.

“What if the one isn’t as beautiful?” he inquires. “I’d rather live through what I already know.”

“What if it’s even more beautiful?” Jisung returns with a wondering smile. “What if you’re missing out, just because the field of flowers blooms behind a mountain?”

“It’s winter, though,” he laughs, shaking his head. “Even if there’s _supposedly_ a field of flowers, I wouldn’t see it.”

“Well, but someone has been there, and they say it’s _beautiful._ ”

“Chan,” Yugyeom answers without thinking. Chan has been there, has probably criss-crossed the mountain enough times to call it his own. And he, too, keeps smiling.

“I thought we’ve already reached the field,” he continues, then. “And yet, it feels so far away.”

“What would make it feel closer?” Jisung wonders, softly.

So many things – taking a day off with everyone together, having fun like in the old days. Going back home to his family, his mother would know exactly how to cheer him up. Having Jaebeom’s hand secured in his, and a warm chest to lean onto. That would be enough.

But first…

Hearing him apologise for what happened earlier. “If Jaebeom admitted his mistake.”

“What if he already apologised but you’re out here, hiding from him?” Jisung asks, bringing their hands up. He uses his free hand to roll up Yugyeom’s sleeve and look at his wristwatch, momentarily leaving its position clutching his ankle.

_That would be too easy, wouldn’t it?_

“What if he doesn’t?”

“You know, birthdays aren’t about gifts,” the younger counters softly, carefully, “it’s your own milestone, you’ve made it this far,” he meets Yugyeom’s eyes, “it doesn’t have to be proven with a present.”

Well, that took another swift turn.

“But doesn’t it feel nice to receive one, to see that someone cares about you enough to give you one?” Yugyeom returns, eagerly. “Right now, I don’t feel like my hyungs would care enough.”

He doesn’t necessarily understand the metaphors, but the way Jisung puts it makes him feel like he’s learning an important lesson.

“Maybe the important thing is to just… be together,” Jisung answers quietly, “to stay by each other’s side even when there are difficulties in the team.”

 _We don’t have that either, do we…_ he nods, nevertheless.

“What I’m trying to say…” he takes a deep breath, steadying his voice – it’s trembling. “You’re waiting for something specific to happen and bring you better times, bring back the happiness you can’t see through the clouds. But you know, even if the clouds make the sky look grey, even if it rains, the sky above stays blue; everything will pass sooner or later.”

“And, sometimes it’s no more than a mutual understanding,” Jisung continues, interrupted by swallowed back whimpers, “the apology comes after; once everyone is ready to face it.”

Yugyeom backs away from their hold, but only to cradle Jisung in his arms. The younger welcomes the touch and cuddles into his chest. “But it doesn’t mean you’ve lost something. The bond is there.”

“After the rain, your hyungs are still there,” he sobs, “and the words feel easier on your lips.”

Jisung’s words are soothing, although they tear him apart at the same time. The burn in his chest is different from the one following his own thoughts, earlier that day.

Jisung’s voice is soothing, although he barely keeps his tone steady through the cries.

“No matter how dark it used to be, once you get to the field… you will look back and wonder, ‘ _where would I have come without them_?’ It was worth it.”

Those are the words of someone who knows, _understands._

“Where would I have come if it weren’t for my team…” he trails off, voice straining with held back tears. He doesn’t want to cry, wants to be the strong one, but his body isn’t listening to him.

Jisung takes the lead again. “But where I _am_ is more important, and it’s all thanks to them, all thanks to the hardship we’ve come through. We can take this one, just as much.”

And then comes silence, as Jisung speaks his last thoughts and Yugyeom focuses on stroking his hair and back in an attempt to comfort him. That’s why he approached the younger in the first place, but it seems the roles have shifted.

But he’s glad they did – maybe he’s not the only one who needed to hear that.

Eventually, Jisung settles back against the wall.

And though his cheeks are stained with dry tears, his mouth shapes into a gentle smile.

“I wish I had your cheerful attitude,” Yugyeom confesses, and it takes him a moment to process his own words – he hadn’t meant to say them out loud. And yet, when he meets Jisung’s eyes, they’re reflecting comfort.

“I want to make the best out of feeling good,” Jisung murmurs, barely more than a whisper. “It keeps me going, too.”

“But you keep smiling even when it hurts,” his gaze falls onto Jisung’s bruised ankle, the younger chuckles in response. “I’m not that strong.”

“Me neither, not really,” Jisung shakes his head, but his eyes stay intense, looking at Yugyeom with such thoughtfulness he feels almost vulnerable. Well, he’s feeling vulnerable today anyway.

Jisung pauses, and the tension around them gets thicker. Yugyeom doesn’t blame him for wavering – what they’re talking about, being this open, isn’t easy to everyone. It shouldn’t be this easy with Jisung either, and yet, when Yugyeom shares his worries and sees the younger smile, he feels at ease. It’s the same comfort that used to radiate from his teammates.

Jisung laughs out a breath, and Yugyeom brings his attention back to the intense eyes. He must look like a frightened puppy to the younger. “It’s not me, I couldn’t do it without my team.”

“They are what makes me strong,” he concludes, and it's spoken in such sincerity and earnest way. “Even when I fall, they are my reason to stand up again.”

Yugyeom smiles despite his stomach squeezing tight. _I had that once, too._

_Where did it disappear to?_

_When did it disappear?_

_Did it_ really _disappear?_

It no longer feels that far away.

“What about you, kiddo?” Yugyeom changes the topic, hoping the sudden inquiry will make his slip of thoughts unnoticed. “Doing well with your boy?”

Normally, Yugyeom doesn’t pay attention to their juniors – his own schedule is packed enough to not leave any room to breathe and notice details about himself, hardly allowing him to follow any other artists’ interests. However, with Chan’s team, he can always make an exception.

The Australian boy had once almost made it to their team, and though they haven’t debuted together in the end, it doesn’t make their relationship any weaker. They’ve been friends for ages, and they love catching up with each other whenever they have an opportunity.

So, anything and everything happening in Chan’s team is a treasured information. The affection growing stronger between two of their dongsaengs is hard to overlook. 

“Actually,” Jisung smiles, glancing at his phone which lights up from a new unread message, “yeah.”

“Good for you,” Yugyeom returns the smile.

Jisung shakes head. “We’ve had it harsh, too. The important thing is… to never give up, I guess.”

“That’s what Chan taught you, right?” he muses, and the blush that blooms on Jisung’s cheeks reminds him of the old days. “Good advice, keep it up.”

“So, what are you gonna do now?” the younger catches him off guard. They’ve drifted into another comfortable silence, and to be honest, Yugyeom prefers that over words.

But Jisung is unmistakably right – the night has progressed since he found the younger, and they can’t wait until morning for someone to find them. For one, Jisung probably _wants_ to go back home and get a shut-eye.

But what is Yugyeom going to do, once the younger leaves? 

A good question. “Get some coffee?”

Jisung returns an amused smile and goes off about his favourite coffee shop without missing a beat, although Yugyeom is pretty sure it’s just another way to keep _him_ busy.

“Wait, gimme your phone,” Jisung suddenly exclaims. “Uh, I mean, If you’re okay with that.”

“Yeah, sure, here you go,” Yugyeom pulls it out and holds it out to the younger. He watches silently as Jisung opens KakaoTalk and finds his conversation with Jaebeom.

At first, he feels an urge to steal the phone back, clutch it to his chest and run away… but then again, this can’t go on forever. “You don’t have to do it.”

“I won’t,” Jisung replies, “you will. I just wanted to give you the needed push.”

Yugyeom watches amusedly as the younger scribbles down a message, deleting each few words, and reviewing it at least dozen times before he returns the phone to Yugyeom’s hand. The message is anything but short despite knowing almost nothing about their conflicts. And yet, it stays brief enough in depth to sound perfect.

A perfect message to which he only needs to hit _send_ , and everything is done – Jaebeom will work his magic of understanding, hopefully, and even if the tension doesn’t fall, maybe he’ll at least acknowledge his mistake.

Yeah, he’s not doing it.

“I can’t send him that, it’s not fair,” he confesses, placing the phone down to rest against his thigh. Jisung gives him a doubting look, so he adds, “let me write my own message.” 

A warm hand rests atop his shoulder as Jisung discreetly peeks at the screen and watches Yugyeom edit and delete the message until it sounds like himself, true to his feelings.

Visibly nervous, but at least honest.

When he’s done, he leans back to admire his work and give Jisung one last look as his thumb hovers over the posting arrow.

“Fighting,” the younger whispers excitedly. “I know you can do it.”

_Sent._

Yugyeom flutters his eyes closed, and a shaky exhale escapes his mouth. The warm hand from his shoulder moves lower to squeeze his upper arm. He returns a weak smile.

_Finally._

It doesn’t end here, not in the slightest – once the message is delivered, Jaebeom must respond, somehow, and the conflict will be waiting for him at home, solved or not – but he’s close, _so close_ that he can practically see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Oh, maybe it’s not a tunnel after all.

“The lights,” Jisung exclaims, patting his arm. “This is a sign, hyung!”

At that, he laughs. Not because it sounds ridiculous, well, maybe a little, but it feels right. Laughing, and the premise of a brighter tomorrow. Literally.

He opens his mouth to joke about the latter when Jisung shrieks again, fishing out his buzzing phone and looking at him with a sheepish smile. Yugyeom encourages him to take it with a nod.

“Uh, hyung?”

He makes out a faint electronic voice speaking through the phone. “Are you at the company, Sung?”

It doesn’t sound like Chan – the voice is way smoother, a little soft around the edge – but judging by the sheepish smile that creeps its way onto Jisung’s face, he can easily guess who is calling.

“Yeah, sorry for not responding–” Jisung stumbles over his words slightly, rushing to interrupt the stream of words from the other side of the line. A loud hum follows before the voice – presumably, Minho – speaks up again. 

“Do you need to stay longer ‘cause I came to pick you up.”

“Oh, no, I’m at the dance studio,” the younger replies, and one of his hands subconsciously travels down to his knee, rubbing patterns into his skin as he listens to the other boy. “Are you at the company? Didn’t you say you went home– right,” he giggles, “come here then.” 

When he places the phone down he gives Yugyeom a brief apologetic smile – he doesn’t have to elaborate. He nods once, mirroring the smile blooming on Jisung’s face.

“Thank you,” he says after a moment of silence. Not because he needs to, he feels like Jisung understands what he feels even without words; but he _wants_ to thank the younger, for making him feel better, and for giving him the much-needed push.

Han Jisung, he’s incredible.

Chan has always had a talent of seeing the best in people, of knowing very well who to trust.

He chose this one well, that’s for sure.

It isn’t long before the door rattles open, and a new person shuffles inside.

When Minho notices them, his shoulders relax visibly – Jisung hadn’t told him about the incident through the phone, but he seems to have picked up on the situation. Seeing Jisung heave onto his feet and skip towards him, he extends the cup in his hand.

“You bought us coffee,” Jisung exclaims in delight, and Minho nods once before his eyes travel to where Yugyeom is still hunched against the wall. He straightens him back but doesn’t stand up.

He doesn’t have enough strength in his legs to stand up just yet, and he doesn’t feel like catching up with the world’s pace. Another short moment on the floor is another safe minute before he heads home and faces everything he was so worried about – at least until he met Jisung.

He watches as the two chatter, standing so close as if they wanted to make up for the time they spent apart. “Why did you get me decaf, hyung!”

“No caffeine for you at night,” Minho responds simply – oh, how easily the soft corners of his smile give him away. “Let’s get some proper ones tomorrow, if you want it so bad.”

He wonders if they’ve been like this, too.

The team, treating each other as family. Keeping an eye on each other and protecting the youngers, the ones with enough enthusiasm to keep them all going.

It’s been so long… but maybe it hasn’t. Maybe it’s still there, somewhere underneath the stress and pressure, buried away and waiting to be embraced again. By strong arms, in a tender yet secure hold, breathing in the scent of their memories.

Yugyeom pretends he’s not looking when Minho lets go of Jisung, but he’s seen it all.

The warmth is still there, despite their busy schedule, and despite everything _they’ve_ been through.

It looks so simple; it always had been.

 _What if it disappeared when they parted?_ It’s been years since they’ve decided to focus on individual careers, and they continue to promote together as a group, that goes without saying – but they’ve grown distant.

 _Would it have stayed the same if they stayed together?_ Spending their whole lives with each other, every day by each other’s side… _Does the answer matter when he cannot turn back time?_

Maybe he doesn’t need to, maybe the answer is right here. Waiting at home.

When they’re leaving, Jisung turns his head towards Yugyeom one last time – gives him a wave and a knowing smile which Yugyeom returns with a remark about asking Minho to carry him bridal style. He watches in amusement when Minho’s cheeks catch aflame.

Once the door is closed again, he even allows himself to giggle, which soon turns into a heartfelt laugh. He hadn’t solved anything, but even if nothing changes when he returns to the dorms, at least he feels at ease.

And then his phone lights up with a message, _Sorry for making you feel that way._

_We’ll talk when you come here, okay?_

_Get home safe._

**Author's Note:**

> I really enjoyed the philosophies about happiness you presented in Paradise Lost, so I wanted to do something similar here, with the contrast between Yugyeom and Jisung’s view of things.
> 
> Somehow, this got way out of hand, all I wanted to write was some cute comfort cuddling… 
> 
> Thank you for reading <3


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